


Helping Hand

by orphan_account



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 02:48:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Desire is greedy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Helping Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Shiroba/Koujaku + sort of bad end Clear. Written for the dmmd ss @ tumblr. PWP, minor blood/gore.

Aoba fails Scrap, and everything falls away.

It must be a week or so after their attempt to take down Oval Tower. He doesn't really know or care anymore, what with the free rein he has now, ever since Aoba failed Scrap. The only thing that matters now is himself, and the Koujaku who's lost his sense of self. 

Until he sees _him_ one day, brought in half trashed by the alphas, wiring exposed on one side of his body and leaking oil. A frisson of recognition runs through him, and he can feel Aoba stir in his mind in mute distress. What was his name again? Before he can place it, the old model jerks in the alphas grip, and he catches sight of the two moles on his chin, the only difference between his pale face and the twin ones on either side of him.

"Master!"

Ah, it was Clear, wasn't it? So that face of his was what he was hiding all this time under that mask of his. And it seems like he's been looking for Aoba. Well, he doesn't mind taking him in and...fixing him up. 

Yes, he decides, that's what he'll do. 

He already has Koujaku, but three months down the road, Clear proves to be of some entertainment value once restored. 

It starts like any other visit of his, except this time, he brings Clear along with him down into the depths of Oval Tower, where Koujaku now resides. 

"Koujaku and I aren't much for conversation these days, you see," he says, the hem of his white robes turning red as he carelessly drags it through a puddle of blood. "Aoba, Aoba, Aoba, _Aoba_ \-- that's all he asked for when he had the mind to do so. Silly, isn't it? When he's had me for so long already." The him who loves Koujaku the way Koujaku's always wanted him to. Of course, Koujaku in his moments of lucidity isn't the one he loves... he's not the one who's given in to the tattoos that bloomed brilliantly over his back, the one free of all restraint. 

"I care about him very much, even if his conversational skills are less than up to par." he continues conversationally, with Clear a half pace behind him as they make their way closer to their destination. "But I thought that a change of pace would be nice. Because you came all this way looking for "Aoba" too..." 

"Yes, Master." Clear's eyes are gleaming with excitement, and his fingers twitch in barely concealed restraint. He'd learned that particular lesson after Aoba showed his displeasure towards any kind of touching without permission. "Thank you."

A faint clinking sound, the chains stirring as Koujaku becomes aware of their incoming footsteps. The red of his hair is a stark contrast to the white pallor of his hand as he rakes it through the mess. Koujaku's lips draw back, baring his teeth in a snarl as he snaps at Aoba. His teeth sink in, and Aoba breathes out an airy sigh of elation. 

"Koujaku," he breathes, and Clear shuts the door behind them with a slow creak. The pain seeps through his sense in a wave of pleasure, as it always does. There's no answer his pronunciation of his name, except for the tightening of his teeth around his arm. "Ah, Koujaku... we have company today. You remember Clear, don't you?" 

"Hello, Koujaku-san," Clear says, still standing pressed against the door. "It's very nice to see you again." 

No reply, and Aoba pries Koujaku off his arm. He beckons Clear over, who obediently peels himself from the wall. The blood begins to trickle down his arm when he holds it up. 

"Clean this up for me," he says with a sweet smile. Beside them, Koujaku begins to strain at his chains, the repetitive _clink, clink, clink_ of them punctuated only by his low rumble of displeasure as Clear puts his mouth to the bite, dragging his tongue over it slowly. He licks the rivulets of blood away, hand clasping around Aoba's wrist as he tends to it. 

His breath quickening, Aoba forces his fingers into Koujaku's mouth again, feeling the sharp scrape of his canines break open skin, and spit slicking them. He playfully catches Koujaku's tongue between his index and middle finger, causing Koujaku to bite him in retaliation, and Aoba laughs. He laughs, because Clear is now busy sucking dark bruises across his arm and he's starting to feel _excited_. 

Withdrawing his fingers with some difficulty, he wraps his hand around himself (leaving smears of blood along his clothing as he parts the fabric) and draws his fist over his cock. He's already half hard, and if Clear's insistent press against his back is any indication, so is he. A quiet moan escapes his mouth, and he knows what he wants, knows he can take it any time. 

But anticipation is half the fun. 

Taking a half step back from Koujaku, he grinds up against Clear who moves against him in return, his attention no longer focused solely only on his arm, but his neck as well. Clear bites and licks over the dark bruises and scabs already present as though trying to replace them with his own mark. He lets him do so-- as a treat, if you will. Hand still working slowly over himself, he reaches around and catches a handful of synthetic hair in his fist and _tugs_. "Clear...were you listening to what I said earlier? It's too quiet in here. Tell me what you want to do to me." 

"I understand, Master." Clear is pushing the hair off his neck, mouth brushing against the curve of his ear as he speaks. "I want to taste you, Master. All over-- your neck, your shoulders, your legs, everything is so beautiful. Is it all right? Master?" He wraps his hands around Aoba's waist, curling his fingers over Aoba's bloody ones, clearly determined to do more than just taste as he claims. "Everything... I want it all." 

The precum from Aoba's dick, the saliva and blood mixed, Clear rolls his fingers over it, gathers some of it across them before he moves them from his cock to his ass. He slides them in slowly, almost tenderly. "And here too."

Koujaku, who has been watching the proceedings tamely so far, begins to thrash against his restraints, his face contorted. Aoba opens his closed eyes, a faint smile curving his lips. Clear's fingers are working their way in and out of him, and he rocks his hips back against him rhythmically. "Of course. I promised you a reward," but he bends at the waist, keeps Clear in him while reaching out pale hands to cup Koujaku's rage filled face. Smooths his thumb across the ink curved across his temple. "But Koujaku hates to share. Since you're here, you can help me teach him a little lesson."

He releases Koujaku's face, and Koujaku immediately lunges for him wordlessly, teeth closing down around empty air. Aoba is removing his clothing piece by piece, until he's down to his underclothes, a pile of white fabric pooled around them. He moves forward again and Koujaku is on him, teeth sinking into every exposed inch of him. Aoba groans loudly, the familiar sweet pain-- no, it's no longer pain but _pleasure_ sweeping over him. Over his shoulder, Clear's mouth turns down at the corners and he fills Aoba a little more until he's writhing between them. Caught between Koujaku and Clear, panting and moving. 

Clear fumbles with his own pants, freeing his cock and wasting no time in plunging into Aoba, hands automatically falling to his hips to pull him against him. Aoba gasps, a strangled, laughing reprimand of his name working its way out of his throat. He's got Koujaku's dick heavy in his palm, his jaws closed around his neck, the restraints straining against the force of Koujaku's will. Clear fills him up until he can barely breathe, and Koujaku seems to realise what's going on through sheer animal instinct. 

He bites down more violently until Aoba's neck is slick with blood, and Aoba is faint, dizzy with blood less or maybe just ecstasy. How wonderful it would be to die in this moment... But he hasn't had his fill just yet. 

Once more, he moves just out of Koujaku's immediate reach, leaving himself in Clear's hands. They shift out of convenience, so that Aoba can brace himself against the wall with both palms, Clear driving himself in and out of him with abandon. He grips Aoba's cock in one hand roughly, pressing his nail against the slit of the head, thumbing the large veins along the underside of it. His hips slow, and he takes liberties that Aoba does not always allow him to take.

"Aoba-san, does it feel good?" he asks, and Aoba moans in reply, thrusting back insistently against him, angling his hips so he brushes up against Aoba's prostate with every move. "Should I go faster? Slower?" 

"Faster, Clear, come on." There's a rise of colour to Aoba's face, his eyes dark and hazy with lust. "Ah...wait- that's enough."

He doesn't want to come too soon, and it was beginning to feel perilously close. Pulling free from Clear, he tosses his hair back, croons Koujaku's name under his breath as he clambers on to his lap. He reaches for Koujaku's cock, impales himself on it easily with the slightest hitch of breath. The heat fills him in a rush, and he sighs as Koujaku sets to licking the blood on his neck. Lazily raising his hips up once, twice, and then enough times for him to lose count, Aoba fucks himself on Koujaku's lap. 

But before long, he motions for Clear once more, who has been watching with the faintest sign of impatience, standing at attention. "Come here, Clear." 

Aoba's freeing Koujaku of his restraints (they would only get in the way) and he knows he only has so much time to position his pieces how he wants them before Koujaku overwhelms him. He stretches his body over him, until Koujaku is flat on his back against the floor and Aoba is over him, still working himself open on his cock. 

"...I want both of you at once." Clear hesitates only for a moment, before he bends over Aoba. He grasps his ass between his hands, kneading the flesh there and introduces his fingers one at a time back into his ass. Stretches him out until Aoba shudders impatiently around his fingers and Koujaku's dick, before he slams inside him in one swift move. 

" _Nngh_ \--" Aoba's cry is suffused with desire, the pain a bright lance up his spine despite Clear's best efforts. It hurts, he can't breathe, and he's never felt more alive. Beneath him, Koujaku barely notices Clear's intrusion, and before long they fall into a steady pace. Clear slides in, Koujaku slides out, and Aoba sees stars with each and every thrust. He grinds down and back against them, loses track of the time that passes. 

Just when he thinks he's about to come, a tight ring of fingers close around his cock, and through the haze of debauchery, he recognises the hand as Clear's. Aoba laughs, shoulders shaking in exertion. "Let go."

"Not yet, Aoba-san."

His eyes narrowing, whatever words he's about to say are cut off as both Clear and Koujaku suddenly pick up the pace. He can't do more than cling to Koujaku's shoulders as they fuck him, desperate for release. Sealing his mouth over Koujaku's, he tastes blood as they kiss, bite, his tongue sliding over Koujaku's and his mouth swallowing Aoba's groan as he feels Clear release him. He comes almost instantly, feeling a rush of heat fill him at the same time. Koujaku's nails are raking across his back down across to his hips, leaving sharp scores of red that well up and bead with blood as they form. He almost bites his tongue off, but Aoba draws back before any accidental dismemberment can occur. 

Clear is the one who pries Aoba's sated body off of Koujaku, chaining him up once more. He carries him out of there in his arms, shutting the cell once more behind them. He glances down at Aoba, who speaks only to Koujaku.

"Let's do that again some time, shall we?"


End file.
